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Ava walks through the door and shakes the raindrops from her coat before hanging it on the rack. The warmth of the apartment air seeps into her skin, sending a wave of comfort and relief through her. She breathes it in for a second, just basking in the feeling of home , and then turns to face the room at large, searching for the one thing that would make this her home : Beatrice.
She’s not in the entry or living room beyond, so Ava drifts further into the space, following her instincts.
The door to their little library/office space is closed, so Ava taps on the wooden frame a few times. When there’s no response, she cracks it open and is met with the sight of Beatrice’s form crumpled into the cozy chair by the bay window. She’s turned away from Ava, staring at the rain outside. Ava can just barely see the side of her profile. Tear tracks glint down her cheeks and her face is masked in a thousand yard stare.
Ava knows this look.
She breathes out a soft huff and takes a beat to center herself before continuing forward. The warmth leaves her with every step into the room.
“Hey, Bea? I’m home,” Ava calls.
Beatrice twitches and closes her eyes. She tilts her chin down and Ava tracks the fresh flood of tears that roll down and drip onto her shirt.
Ava crosses the space between them in a couple more steps and pauses just at the side of the chair.
Beatrice keeps her eyes closed and her chin down.
A familiar weight settles into Ava’s chest. She crouches down to place her face at the same level as Beatrice’s, then pauses there for a few seconds, studying.
Beatrice is trembling as soft, silent sobs continue to rack through her body. The skin around her eyes is puffy and red, as if she’s been crying for a long time.
Ava moves a hand up and palms the far side of Beatrice’s face, using her thumb to clear away some of the tears while she applies a gentle pressure to try and turn Beatrice’s face toward her.
Beatrice gives in for a few inches, but then shudders through a larger sob and freezes.
Ava tilts forward to rest her forehead on Beatrice’s.
Her hot, stuttering breath rushes across Ava’s face and she presses back into her just a little bit more.
“I know, baby. I’m here,” Ava whispers.
Beatrice sobs again and a whimper escapes for the first time.
Ava presses a careful kiss on the ball of Beatrice’s cheek and holds the contact, simply existing in the moment with her.
They stay like that for a long while. Ava doesn’t know how long.
Eventually, a wave of tension rolls up Beatrice’s spine and she pulls away from Ava in a sharp movement.
“I’m sorry” Beatrice whispers. She turns away and scrubs at her face in harsh movements.
“No, hey, it’s totally ok,” Ava says. Her hand hangs in mid-air where it had been holding Beatrice, and she resists the urge to reach back out to touch the other woman.
Beatrice shakes her head in a sharp movement and straightens in her chair, that familiar stiffness locking down every inch of her spine.
It sets Ava’s teeth on edge. Her hand folds into a light fist before dropping to the chair arm between them.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m fine. How was your walk?” Beatrice asks, voice suddenly formal and clipped.
Ava shakes her head and leans closer. “No, Bea, we should talk-”
Beatrice jerks her head again and Ava’s words die off in her throat.
“No, I’m sorry. We don’t need to. I’m fine,” Beatrice says. She stands from the chair and crosses to the far corner of her room, still scrubbing at her face.
Ava stands behind her and watches as the stiffness only solidifies and hardens along the other woman’s form; it makes her own chest feel tight and achy.
“Bea, I want to. If something’s bothering you I want to be here for you. This isn’t the first time. Please,” Ava says.
Beatrice’s form turns statue-esq in the corner. There’s one, two, three long beats of silence before she turns back to face Ava in one swift, smooth movement. Her face is cold marble and Ava’s heart catches in her chest.
“Please, Bea. I love you. Whatever it is, let me be there for you,” Ava whispers.
Beatrice smiles, small and controlled. It sends a shiver down Ava’s spine.
“I love you, too. I’m fine now. I apologize again. How about I make us some tea and you can tell me about your walk?” Beatrice says.
She doesn’t wait for Ava’s reply before sweeping out of the room and disappearing into the kitchen.
Ava watches her go with a boulder resting dense and cold in the bottom of her stomach.
She tries to poke and pry a few more times over the next few hours and days, but she doesn’t get anywhere new.
She never does.
Beatrice stays stiff and quiet until the weather breaks.
Then, the coldness dissipates and the whole place fills with warmth again.
She doesn’t talk about it.
------------------------
A beam of light falls across her face, tickling her closed eyelids and stirring her from her light sleep. Ava moans and lifts her arms above her head, reveling in the light stretch that pulls through her muscles and the soft brush of the blankets on her skin. Her toes break the barrier at the end of the bed, untucking the sheets and opening her up to invasion from the cold air beyond. She shivers and moans again.
Something shifts behind her and her back is met with a wall of heat, snuffing out her shivers in a matter of seconds.
Ava turns over and curls into the heat instinctively, tucking her legs up and wrapping her arms around Beatrice’s waist.
Beatrice moans back. Her own arms wrap around Ava and clutch her to her chest.
A smile cracks along Ava’s lips and she buries her head into Beatrice’s neck, pressing the smile directly into Beatrice’s skin.
A shiver rocks through Beatrice’s frame and Ava feels that it has nothing to do with cold. Something unlocks in her chest.
Ava surges forward again and melds herself impossibly closer, shifting the pressure of her lips from innocent to an open-mouthed, gentle sucking.
Another moan.
Another shiver.
Flames rush through Ava’s body, igniting all of her movements with a kind of frenzy. Before she has time to think, she’s pushing Beatrice onto her back and sliding to straddle her. Her hands slip below clothing, finding the molten-hot, malleable flesh of Beatrice’s stomach and thigh. She slides her mouth up the column of Beatrice’s throat, pressing open, sloppy kisses all the way up until she curves around the cut of Beatrice’s chin and finds her lips.
She loses herself to the wet heat, soaking in every point of contact, world shifting into nothing but Beatrice.
Beatrice responds in kind, lips moving frantically, hands slipping and grasping below the thin fabric of Ava’s pajamas.
Until, suddenly, she stops.
Her muscles turn tight and sharp below Ava’s fingertips and she breaks her lips away from Ava’s.
“Wait,” she breathes.
Ava reacts immediately. She slides her hands out from underneath Beatrice’s clothes and shifts back to rest her weight on her heels, pulling her chest off of Beatrice’s so she can look her in the face.
Only Beatrice doesn’t look back.
Her eyes are snapped shut and her face is tilted sideways into the pillow.
Rocks fall into Ava’s stomach, hard and heavy, and she pulls back even further.
“No problem. No problem. Hey, you ok?” Ava gasps, still trying to catch her breath.
Beatrice’s throat works and flexes repeatedly and she keeps her face buried away for several long, tense seconds.
“Babe. Bea. Please, what’s wrong?” Ava says, voice gaining strength.
Beatrice swallows again and then jerks her head once, sharply. “I’m fine, sorry,” she whispers. “Just, uh, not in the mood this morning. Can we pick this up later maybe?”
Ava moves a trembling hand up to cup along Beatrice’s chin, stroking her thumb along the underside of her jaw. Beatrice’s skin twitches and flexes with more harsh swallows.
“Of course, Bea. Of course. No problem. Are you ok?”
Beatrice’s chest rocks with a shaky sigh, jostling Ava above her in the process. “I’m fine,” she says on the exhale. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Please, this is no problem. Just talk to me, please,” Ava says. She rubs her thumb a little firmer along the muscle of Beatrice’s jaw.
Beatrice sighs again, shakes her head one more time, and then turns to stone beneath her. Her eyes flick open. They’re walled, empty. Her hand taps on Ava’s thigh in three quick pats.
“I’m fine, just lost the mood. Can you let me up?” Beatrice says.
Ava frowns but rolls off of Beatrice right away, moving to sit cross-legged on the bed next to her.
Beatrice pulls in a deep breath as soon as she’s free, then goes straight into getting up. Ava watches silently as Beatrice rises from the bed and scurries across the room to disappear into the bathroom in the corner.
As the door shuts with a firm snap, Ava bites her lip and lets the first tear fall. She doesn’t have to try to keep her sobs silent, the rocks in her stomach have stacked all the way up her chest and throat, blocking off her throat entirely.
She lets the other tears drop after it.
She knows how this day will play.
Beatrice won’t be coming back out to see them anytime soon.
The creak and rush of water flowing through their pipes a moment later as the shower starts only confirms that.
Beatrice apologizes again when she comes back out, but otherwise won’t talk about it.
She stays cold and apart for the rest of the week.
Then, the next week she’s fine.
On Tuesday she wakes Ava up with a hand under her shirt and hot lips at her ear.
They don’t talk about it.
---------------------
They’re sitting at a small table in the café down the street.
It’s a beautiful day. They went to an art show by the park that morning. They took a walk through the leaf-covered streets. Now, they sit at their favorite restaurant with a half-empty bottle of wine and two empty plates between them as they banter back and forth about the things they’d seen.
Ava feels like glowing.
She glances down at herself surreptitiously for a second just to make sure she isn’t actually, then meets Beatrice’s gaze across the table again.
Beatrice’s eyes twinkle as she grins back at her, cheeks flushed.
Ava’s heart skips a beat and her stomach swoops.
She dives back into the conversation feet-first.
The rest of the bottle of wine dwindles away.
The flush on Beatrice’s cheeks grows brighter.
Eventually, Ava excuses herself from the table and makes her way to the bathroom on slightly unsteady legs, mentally planning out the rest of their evening with laughter, soft kisses, and all-encompassing warmth.
Only, by the time she returns to the table something’s changed.
Beatrice is sitting with her hands folded tight in her lap, knuckles white. Her back is ramrod straight and her face has closed off into a marble mask, the flush fading away by the second.
Ava’s chest tightens, the glow of the alcohol leaving her in a rush. She slides back into her chair with a tight, tentative smile on her face.
“I’m back. You ok?” Ava says, voice cheery.
Beatrice flashes her a tight smile back and nods, not quite making eye contact. “Fine,” she says.
The first rock falls into place in Ava’s stomach.
She sits taller in her chair.
“What’s up?” Ava asks lightly.
Beatrice’s eyes dart to somewhere over her shoulder for a half-second before snapping back to the air near Ava’s face.
“It’s nothing. I’m fine,” Beatrice says.
Ava’s face crumples and she shoots a quick glance over her shoulder.
Two women are sitting at the table in the corner of the patio. They’re side by side, pressed up next to each other almost indecently, and alternating between laughing, whispering to each other, and kissing.
Brain whirring, Ava turns back to study Beatrice again.
She’s completely pale now. Her eyes are locked at the table between them and her jaw is tense and twitchy.
“Bea,” Ava starts.
Beatrice shakes her head and leans forward in her chair, plastering a broad, forced smile on her face.
The dark contrast of it between the free smile that had been on her face just a few short minutes ago sends a chill down Ava’s spine.
“I’m having a great time, Ava. Are you ready to go home?” Beatrice asks.
Another rock falls into Ava’s stomach.
She works a smile back onto her face and nods.
They make their way home.
It’s tense and quiet. Beatrice holds her hand, but it’s chilly and stiff in Ava’s grasp.
They continue on with their light conversation, but it feels off now, like someone missed a beat in the soundtrack and is desperately trying to catch back up.
It isn’t until that night, when it’s completely dark and they’re bundled together under the sheets, that Beatrice breaks the silence herself.
“I’m sorry about ruining the night,” she whispers, breath tickling the hair at the back of Ava’s neck.
Ava rolls over to face her, eyes just barely catching the glint of Beatrice’s in the dim light.
“You didn’t ruin the night. Don’t apologize,” Ava says.
Beatrice shifts in the sheets. The glint of her eyes disappears and Ava wishes more than anything she could see her face, but she doesn’t want to risk breaking this bubble of safety that’s worked Beatrice into a talking mood.
“I did though. We were having such a good time and then I just…shut down,” Beatrice says.
Ava inches a little bit closer and moves a hand out to rest on the bed between them, offering but not wanting to overstep.
Beatrice’s hand slides out to meet it, fingers trembling as she clasps them together.
“You did not. I had a great time today. But, I am here for you if you want to talk about what happened,” Ava says.
They fall into silence for a long moment. Beatrice’s fingers twitch and squeeze Ava’s at irregular intervals.
“I’m here, Bea,” Ava whispers eventually.
Beatrice clears her throat. “Sometimes, when I see other couples like that, it makes me…realize how much I can’t give you.”
Ava squeezes her hand back, hard. “You give me everything,” she says, voice firm.
A wet, choking moan floats to Ava from across the bed and she inches just a little bit closer in response.
“You have nothing to be insecure about. I love you. I love us. I don’t need whatever it is that you saw that you think I’m missing. I need you. I love you,” Ava says.
A sob breaks out of Beatrice, shaking the whole bed.
Ava slides closer, finally pressing her front into Beatrice’s so she can use her free arm to wrap around Beatrice’s waist. She pulls her tight against herself, sucking in a deep breath and guiding Beatrice to follow along.
“I love you,” Ava whispers. “I love you.”
Beatrice’s head jerks in a sharp nod against her shoulder and she burrows further into her.
“I know-” she gasps and chokes before continuing. “I know that when I’m with you. But sometimes, when you’re not with me, my mind gets the better of me.”
Ava shushes her, rocking her in her arms. “I know,” she whispers. “I know. I understand. And I love you. Please, hear that I love you. I don’t care what we do. I don’t care where we are. We could be here or we could be anywhere in the world and you would be my everything. You’re my home. You’re my dream. Please, let me love you.”
Beatrice sobs again. “I love you, too. I’ll try. I’ll be better.”
Ava squeezes her tighter and holds. “You’re perfect. You don’t need to do better. Just let me love you.”
Beatrice nods into her shoulder. “I’ll try.”
“Good. Thank you. Thank you,” Ava breathes. She tucks her chin down to press her face into Beatrice’s neck and settles in.
They stay like that until they fall asleep, wrapped up in each other completely.
The next day Beatrice is still soft and affectionate. Warm. But, she avoids eye contact and smiles a little less.
The pattern continues for the next few weeks.
Still, Ava holds onto her hope.
It’s progress.
--------------------
Ava sits at the table in the kitchen, head folded down in her arms.
She’s tired.
No, she’s exhausted.
Her heart aches .
Beatrice’s words from the night before ring sharp and painful in her ears.
“If the grass is always greener somewhere else, if you want to run again, then just tell me and I’ll step aside. I’ll get out of your way. I promise.”
She doesn’t know how they got here.
She doesn’t know where she went wrong.
She doesn’t know what she did to make Beatrice think she’s waiting to leave. That she’d ever leave.
She’d just gone for a walk.
She’d come home to find Beatrice crying in the library again, staring out into the rain.
Beatrice had tried to push it off and deflect as usual, but this time Ava pushed.
She’d begged.
She’d pleaded for her to let her in. Let her love her.
And Beatrice had snapped.
She’d shouted that she wasn’t good enough. That Ava deserved more. That Ava had so many dreams in life that she’d been held back from, and now Beatrice was only holding her back further. That Ava should be free to find her next adventure, do as she pleases, and maybe Beatrice should let her go so she can do that.
Ava’d been frozen, almost completely at a loss for words as Beatrice paced and yelled, eyes bright with emotion and tears.
All Ava could say was that she loved her. She repeated it over and over and over again, begging for that to be enough.
But Beatrice had just shaken her head, face closing off bit by bit.
“Maybe that’s not enough.”
Then, she’d left. She stormed out into the rain she hates so much just before dark, and she hadn’t been back.
At first, Ava waited. She cried and waited and hoped.
Then, she panicked. She’d tried calling, only to find Beatrice’s phone still on the bedside table. So, she’d searched, running through the streets like a madwoman.
She couldn’t find a trace of her.
She stumbled home drenched and collapsed into the kitchen chair to wait.
To hope.
The shivers had died down hours ago. She’s aware enough to know that’s probably not a good sign, but she doesn’t care.
Her heart aches .
She doesn’t know where she went wrong.
She’s so tired.
At some point, the world fades out and it’s all dark and quiet for a long time.
Firm, gentle hands appear on her shoulders.
Words float to her from a fuzzy distance.
“Ava, darling, are you ok?”
She groans and cracks an eye open. Beatrice is crouching next to her at the table, dry, intact, and visibly concerned.
“I just want you to love you. I love you so much. I want you to love you,” Ava mumbles. The world is too bright and sharp around her for some reason so she moans and slips her eyes closed again.
“Oh darling, I’m so sorry,” Beatrice whispers.
Lips press into the side of her head and Ava leans into the contact, shivering at the heat they bring.
Arms loop under Ava’s legs and hips, scooping her up from the chair.
On some level, Ava knows something’s wrong. She knows she should open her eyes and sit up instead of letting herself be carried, but she can’t. She knows that's not good.
“I’ve got you,” Beatrice whispers into her hair.
So Ava relaxes. She's home.
Ava’s in and out for the next hour, but she’s aware enough.
Beatrice warms her up slowly in the shower, crawling into the stream behind her with her clothes and all.
Beatrice dries them off and changes them into clean, warm, soft clothes.
Beatrice tucks them under all of the blankets on their bed and wraps herself fully around her.
Then, they sleep.
Ava comes-to sometime in the early afternoon. This time when she opens her eyes, the world isn’t too bright or fuzzy.
It’s just dull.
Beatrice’s warm weight is pressed up behind her.
She doesn’t push back into her.
“I’m sorry,” Beatrice whispers, sensing her awake.
Ava breathes out long and slow.
“Are you feeling better?” Beatrice asks after a few moments of silence.
“Yes,” Ava says simply.
“I’m so sorry,” Beatrice says again.
Ava sighs and shifts around under the blankets to face her, the rocks in her stomach shifting and clanking painfully against her ribs.
“I know,” she whispers, meeting Beatrice’s tear-flooded eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Beatrice’s face ripples and shifts, flexing between stone and heartbreak.
“I love you. I do. But I’ve never had someone want to stay with me for me before. I’m not used to…having someone be my home. I’m not sure I know how to be that for you, too,” Beatrice says.
“I know. I understand. All I can say is you are that for me just as you are. You are my home. I love you. I don’t need anything else. I just need you to let me love you, and try to love yourself. That’s all I want,” Ava says.
Beatrice nods and shivers.
Ava curls into her further.
“I keep expecting you to find someone better. Someone to take my place,” Beatrice gasps.
Ava fists her hands into the front of Beatrice’s shirt and pulls, sealing them together.
“There is no taking your place. You’re my home,” Ava says, firm and hard.
“Ok,” Beatrice gasps. “Ok.”
Ava pulls her tighter.
--------------------
They’re picnicking in the park.
Ava is laying back on the blanket, food-drunk and basking in the sunlight.
Beatrice is sitting by her head, one hand stretched out to rub through Ava’s hair and scratch at her scalp.
Ava moans.
Beatrice’s fingers flex and rub harder.
“I’ve been thinking,” Ava starts.
Beatrice’s fingers still and Ava cracks an eye open to study her face.
It’s still soft, but the edges of her mouth and eyes are crinkled and pinched.
Ava rushes to continue. “What if we took a trip, just the two of us? You’re right, I do have a lot of dreams that I’ve always wanted and travel is one of them. But I’d like nothing more than to travel with you. If that’s something you’d want to do, too? I don’t really want to be away from home.”
Beatrice’s face breaks into a slow, building smile.
“I’d love to,” Beatrice whispers.
Ava grins back and surges up. She swings herself over Beatrice’s lap and wraps her arms around the back of her neck, leaning in until their faces are just inches apart.
“Good. I love you,” Ava whispers.
Then she connects their lips together and the world fades away.